


Theatre: The Puppeteer

by watanuki_sama



Series: Theatre Quartet [3]
Category: D.N. Angel
Genre: Angst, Japanese naming conventions, M/M, Symbolism, Unreliable Narrator, Weird tense changes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-27
Updated: 2013-02-27
Packaged: 2017-12-03 19:05:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/701634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watanuki_sama/pseuds/watanuki_sama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the theatre, the Puppeteer puts on the show, trying to lure the Audience to him. But he can never take the Audience home afterwards. That is the Doll's job, and the Puppeteer hates the Doll for it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Theatre: The Puppeteer

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted 09/21/2005 on ff.net under the penname 'EFAW'.

_The curtain lifts…_

_In the Theatre, there is always a stage. High above, in the shadows cloaking the space, the Puppeteer lies in wait, waiting for his Audience to return, so that he can control his Marionette and make it dance. There are two kinds of Audiences that the Puppeteer likes. He likes the Audience where there are many people, so he can dazzle them with his tricks. He loves the attention, though rarely is it given directly to him. The Marionette knows not to accept the applause, but still it is directed at the Marionette rather than the Puppeteer._

_The other type of Audience the Puppeteer likes is the kind that is silent. Where only the shadows roam in the plush seats, the Puppeteer can forget he is cloaked in the black, and reveal who he is. Only in the darkness, only to this Audience does he show his true face, the face to a creature that doesn't care._

_But the darkness drives people mad._

_So is the case of the Puppeteer. He used to love the darkness, but that love turned to hate. His shadows engulfed him, and left alone with his puppets, and his special Marionette, he became a creature of the night. Though he is still friendly and pleasant when his first Audience comes to call, that time is becoming rare, and the darkness swallows him continuously, revealing the monster he has become, only in the dark. Soon, there will be nothing left of the Puppeteer._

_But for now, there is his Marionette._

_And his revenge upon the Doll, for taking his Audience and turning the shadows against him, turning the darkness he loved against him._

_And, as always, there is the darkness._

_The stage is called Life._

_This is the Puppeteer._

_Let the show begin._

**XXXX**

People called Krad many things. A cruel manipulator, a wicked killer, a homicidal maniac.

Ah. Yes. Homicidal manic. That one was his favorites.

He had borrowed Satoshi-sama's dictionary, and looked up those two separate words. Ironically, considering how often his name and those two linked words came up together, it was amusing how neither applied to him.

Homicidal. The word means that one human kills another. It was true that he wanted to kill one person, and the curse that resided in that person. That would surely have put the 'homicidal' label onto him. But there was one flaw in the homicidal argument. He hadn't been human in a long time. In fact, he couldn't remember if he had ever been human. There were human memories, but that could have been programming. He couldn't remember if he was a human linked to the Hikari bloodline, or if he was just another of countless Hikari productions, though he was pretty sure that, once, he had been.

Then there was the other word.

Maniac. The very definition of the word maniac is 'an insane person'. Again comes the not-a-person point. But not only that, he wasn't insane. He had a very definite goal, and it involved killing two people, one of whom wasn't even technically a person, but that didn't make him automatically insane. Insane people had problems, fantasies that took over reality. He clearly knew the line between reality and fantasy, though it was a thin one.

This was why the phrase was so funny to him, why it was his favorite. In the same way that a person will nickname a fat man 'Skinny Tim' or whatnot, this nickname had absolutely nothing to do with him, had no relation to him at all. He loved knowing that, no matter what they thought, they were wrong in the names they called him.

People called him cruel, especially Satoshi-sama.

But cruel is all about perception, as is everything in this world. In the same way that the bully kicks the dog and finds glee in it, the dog fears against the pain. To the dog, the act is cruel, but to the bully, the act is mere sport, a spot of fun before finding the next target. And, as is the case with most bullies, this one is probably just insecure and needs someone to lord over, to prove that he isn't just another piece of wallpaper in the background.

_…but the darkness drives people mad…_

So it was with him. Twice it had happened, where feelings of love towards him turned to hate, and to be cruel was the only way he could survive. By making Satoshi-sama angry, he was proving that the boy was noticing him, that the boy knew he was there. The only way he could be absolutely sure of his existence was if someone hated him at all times, because love hadn't worked out.

After all, even demons can feel insecure. He had to have someone with him at all times, because there were things in the shadows, voices whispering of the things he had done. Just residing in a person's mind wasn't enough; he had to have even the barest shred of thought turned towards him. And, like a flower towards the sunlight, he moves towards the thought, longing, needing it, as even the tiniest thought is vital to his existence.

_…and the darkness swallows him continuously, revealing the monster he has become, only in the dark…_

But the other reason he's so cruel to the ones he loves is that, after centuries trapped in the mind of a host or hanging suspended in the darkness, he can't be certain that he's real. He needs to be cruel to give proof to the fact that he exists, to the fact that he is fundamental in some part of someone's life.

_…soon, there will be nothing left of the Puppeteer…_

He was scared to death of the shadows that plagued him. He wouldn't ever show it, but the idea, the very thought of going back into that hanging darkness, forever suspended in time, terrified him. He knew that if he stayed in the darkness too long, he would become just as they called him. If he stayed in the dark, with only the voices of the past haunting him, he would go insane. He would truly become a maniac.

He can't let that happen to him. So he haunts the mind of his Satoshi-sama, whispering cruelties, even though he cannot truthfully make them real. If he ever made his threats come true, he knows he would disappear into the darkness, once more to hang with no truth in his existence, and only the doubt that maybe he really isn't real anymore.

_…the Puppeteer lies in wait, waiting for his Audience to return, so that he can control his Marionette and make it dance…_

That's why he continues to whisper the words to Satoshi-sama, continues to make the boy get angry, and mad, and easier to use. Because if he didn't, the silent shadows would overwhelm him. But for now, the silent shadows stay away.

Because the silence hates the noise.

**XXXX**

Captain Saehara and the guards watched as the white Dark fought Dark. They had seen it countless times before, but still, they could not tear their gazes away. There was something about the way the white Dark fought, so willing, it seemed, to throw his life away, if only to bring Dark down with him, that made it a captivating fight.

_…he likes the Audience where there are many people, so he can dazzle them with his tricks…_

In front of him, Dark was fighting, struggling against this terrible onslaught of magic. Satoshi-sama had faded to unconsciousness in the back of his mind, which made it so much easier to fight. It always was easier when the puppets didn't tell the masters how to move the strings. And he could feel the thrill, the rush, the belief that maybe, this time, in front of all these people, he would defeat Dark.

_…he loves the attention, though rarely is it given directly to him…_

But, alas, Dark manages to get away, the artifact clutched in tired hands, flying and melding into the darkness he was named for. Krad let him go. After all, it would do nothing to kill the prey, then find there is nothing left anymore. He will not kill the people not directly involved, he will only kill the people he has set his sights on. Twisted as it his, his sense of honor remains intact, and he will not break it for anything, not even the death of his enemy.

He lets Satoshi-sama have control, watching as the unconscious teen falls back onto the bed. Silently, he wills himself to sleep. Sleep is the only place of darkness he feels relatively safe, because he dreams, and his dreams are full of warmth, though imagined or real, he cannot tell.

It doesn't matter. He is like the sparrow flying through the room. The darkness surrounds the room, but inside is full of light. The sparrow continues to fly through the room, circling and circling, only to keep from returning to the darkness. It is horrible to step out from the light to the dark without knowing what to expect, but it is even more horrible to be trapped in the dark, then have one burst of freedom, one glimpse of light, before plunging back into the dark.

Like the sparrow, he circles, endlessly searching for the smallest glimpse of warmth he can find.

**XXXX**

_…though he is still friendly and pleasant…_

It hadn't always been like this. Once upon a dreary day, when Hikari Rio had died, and her little boy spilled tears, he had been there, picking up the fallen pieces and repairing the fragile child. He was the comfort offered in a world of harsh words and unshed tears, the soft lines in a world of edges.

That was the last time that little boy had cried.

But despite everything that Satoshi-sama turned into outside, Satoshi-sama was still that crying little boy on the inside, alone and scared in a world that didn't want him. At that time, Krad had been kind, a gentle ear that would listen to a little boy's woes in a world of deafness.

_…that time is becoming rare…_

Then the Niwa brat had turned fourteen.

_…he used to love the darkness, but that love turned to hate…_

At first, it hadn't been so bad. He had sat back, and watched as what-had-been stole, and what-was chased after. But when Satoshi-sama started to pay more attention to the Niwa boy, he had snapped. The Niwa family had taken Dark away from him, but he wouldn't let them take his Satoshi-sama.

That was the first time he had come out.

The first time Satoshi-sama had seen this side of him.

The first time Satoshi-sama had fought against him.

The first time he had tried to kill Satoshi-sama's friend.

The first time…the first time for everything.

And the first time Satoshi-sama began to hate him.

For the night reveals what the day cannot.

_…he became a creature of the night…_

He hadn't wanted to kill the Niwa boy. He truly loved Satoshi-sama, but he needed to be loved back, needed someone who would prove that he existed as more than just a voice. Satoshi-sama had done that, many a time he had done that, but his interests were turning elsewhere, and Krad was scared, terrified that he would be sent back to the darkness, unable to return.

Yet, even though he had lost Satoshi-sama's love, he had gained two things in return. The first was the hate of his Tamer, the fiercely loyal feelings towards the Niwa fueling his hate even more. And he had gained the fear of Niwa Daisuke. The boy feared for his life every time he appeared, and nothing could prove he existed better than that.

But even before that, before Satoshi-sama, there had been another. There had been the breath that tickled his cheek, the warmth that enveloped him, the life that shot through him, the euphoric feeling of being in love.

_…in the darkness, only to this Audience does he show his true face…_

But that love was as inconsistent as the moon, waning in interest back and forth between him and others, both male and female. He was the backup, the fallback, the one who was approached when there was no one else. But he couldn't help it. He loved him with all of his being, every fiber of his soul, and nothing could ever tear that love.

But something could mutate it.

When he had given everything he had, he had been left alone, betrayed by the one he had fallen in love with. The cold truth hit him with the force of a hurricane. He had been played, and there was nothing left.

That love became sorrow. And as he had once loved with his whole, now he hated with his whole, hated life, and the feelings that led to this.

He couldn't forgive the person who had torn his world out from under him

He couldn't forgive Dark.

_…his shadows engulfed him, and left alone…_

But he had.

Because he couldn't hate Dark.

So he set out, a broken heart crushing his own will to live. He couldn't get his love back, there was no way to get back love, but he knew what he wanted. He wanted Dark. More than anything, he wanted the person he had felt most compatible with, the person he felt was his soul mate.

He never got the chance.

The Hikari came to him, saying that he knew a way to make Krad more able than anything, able to do anything he wished. There was only one requirement. All he had to do was be bound to the family. This seemed good. If he had power, he could, possibly, find a way to Dark and show the player what it was like to be fully loved. Then, maybe he could have him back.

He was a fool.

_…the Puppeteer can forget he is cloaked in the black…_

So he agreed.

_…and reveal who he is…_

But the Hikari, too, lied to him. They didn't bind him to the family, they enslaved him to the family. Any command given, he had to obey, and what followed was a slaughter, as he could resist no more than a marble can move against the way it was shot.

_… turning the darkness he loved against him …_

When the Hikari finally died, he found himself hanging, forgotten, in a place where neither space nor time touched. That was when he had first begun to fear the dark. Trapped, with only himself for company, his conscious began to plague him with memories of what he had been ordered to do, and had been unable to resist.

Though he cried, there was no one to hear him in the dark.

He came out many times over the years, and each time, he noticed two things. The first being that, each time he was forced to do something that would have bothered his conscious, it bothered him less, and less, until there was nothing he felt. Even when he killed, there was nothing.

And when there was nothing, eventually, the good feelings disappear, leaving only the evil ones. And the love turned to hate.

The second thing was that he could feel the ties between him and the family weakening. Hikari were dying out, and the bloodline had become watered down. Little of the original blood began appearing in his Tamers, and he could feel their control over him slipping.

_…but for now, there is his Marionette…_

And then there was Satoshi-sama. Krad found, in his first glance of the grieving child, that the boy practically no control over him. If he got his strength up, he could fight against letting Krad out when Dark appeared, because he always appeared, but the boy could no more control him than he could the ocean. Instead, the puppet found he had become the puppet master.

He could use the child to eventually get back at Dark for betraying him.

_…and his revenge upon the Doll, for taking his Audience and turning the shadows against him…_

And the Niwa boy, he would kill, for taking his sweet Satoshi-sama away from him.

**XXXX**

Standing on a branch of the tree, overlooking the ocean, he stared down at the churning waters. He always came to this spot, or a spot like this, on this particular night. This was the only night that he tossed aside his continued chants for blood, and stayed silent. For even though there was silence, on this night, he could not hear it, drowned out by his thoughts, his words, his memories.

_…the face to a creature that doesn't care…_

The ocean is a cruel beast, cold, unforgiving, and merciless. In one instant, she can go from sweet to rage, peaceful calm to spitting anger. And the ocean doesn't care. The seas don't care about trivial things like human worries and fears. Which is why he came, and, once he was sure that Satoshi-sama was asleep, he would begin to talk, talk about everything.

It matters not what her reaction is. The sea will never care about the words he says. Which is why he can confide in her, and only her, of everything. Even if it is not in this spot, on this night, he will walk or fly to the beach and spill everything to the Lady Ocean.

After all, tradition must be upheld.

And he had done this the first night Dark had left.

Above him, the stars twinkled, and the moon hung full, all insensitive listeners. But the sea was his favorite. She, too, was a cruel mistress, a two-faced she-devil. On the one hand she was beautiful, calm and sensitive. On the flip side, she was wicked and hateful, quick to anger, and quicker still to lash out.

Plus, too, he held the sea special because the sea was who he had thrown himself too when he felt he could no longer live again.

_…and, as always, there is the darkness…_

The only ones around are the unfeeling listeners as he talks, away from the ears of creatures that can hear. The only people he fears this getting to are far away or asleep, and there is nothing else. So he talks, and she listens, offering no advice to words that she cannot hear.

_…this is the Puppeteer…_

His wings are salty with sea spray, and his words are drowning as the waters become even more active. Looking upwards as he finishes, he sees a silhouette outlined against the moon, wings spread wide. With a feral grin, he launches away from the tree, flapping steadily to meet with the thief, in complete control of the body he possesses. Even if this is just a midnight jaunt, he can still try to kill the thief.

After all, the deepest circle of hell is reserved for betrayers and mutineers.

_Let the show begin…_


End file.
